The language of ‘retail’ love

I am a lover of languages. I’ve long dreamed of being able to fluently speak Spanish and French and oh my Italian. Heck, I even took Spanish in college when it had nothing to do with what I was going to do with my life. But that all being said, languages intimidate the hell out of me. Despite loving the exoticness and passions of these languages, and despite studying them for months and even years before entering their countries, I freeze the second I have to speak them. See, while I love these languages, the whole conjugating verbs and deciphering between feminine and masculine, and when to use the je, tu, vous et nous gets my ADD head a spinning. Even now, on my second go around dons Paris, I’m intimidated to say anything more than “Ou es toilettes?” or even just “Toilette?” with a question mark in my tone.

And yet, stick me in a shop, any shop, where there’s chaussers or pantalons or chemises and I can speak any language!

Every time we go to a new country, whether it be the America or Italy or Spain or France or soon to be Belgium and Germany, I am fixated with getting me a new outfit. The last time we were in Paris, and the start of my across the world shopping spree, I purchased a French designed peacoat. And when we were in Florence last year, I purchased a pair of wedged heels for my wedding and a super sweet lilac summer dress, and when we were in Nice, I bought me a new hat, and then in Barcelona, I got me a Spanish style skirt and shirt. And while I have yet to get something this time in Paris, it’s not for lack of trying 😉

We did some shopping browsing yesterday.

Now, I’m not much of a department store shopper, more of a small boutique in and out kind of shopper, where I’m not being pushed around by the crowds or trying to track down a sales clerk who’s more into fiddling with her iPhone apps than she is into helping me find a size. And yet, both times in Paris, I have hit up the Galleries Lafayette, one of the biggest department stores around. Why? Because even if you don’t have the dollars to dole out, or the patience to navigate the crowds and sort through the racks, the view all around is absolutely amazing. Not only are you walking amidst the likes of Jimmy Choo and Marc Jacobs, but it’s as though you and all the clothes around you are embraced in a ballroom dance at the most prestigious, invite-only, royal masquerade.

The last time we were here, I had a focus, I was determined to purchase a French designer winter jacket, which I did walk away with. But this time, I was just kind of wandering, aimlessly staring, and yes drooling a little bit too.

Post Lafayette, we headed up to Montmarte and browsed through some of the boutiques and art galleries, and then I had my breath taken away once again by the beauty that is Sacre Couer. I’m not an overly religious person by any means, but I swear, the moment I walked into this church, both times, it’s as though my breath was literally being drawn out of me, and an inner peace was settling inside of me. I was, however, a little disappointed that I couldn’t walk the 300 steps up to the dome (Mario did; check out his blog here) due to my still aching knees 🙁

My toes, however, while still an angry red, do seem to be improving in the pain area, so that’s good right!

We’re off to Belgium today (a day earlier than planned due to some sort of strike) to meet up with my family on my grandpa’s side, which I am so very excited for!

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